


To Hell And Back

by no_dang_idea



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Character Death, Demon & Human Interactions, Demon Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Demon/Human Relationships, Human Sides (Sanders Sides), I mean it could be romantic if you want, Murder, Non-Graphic Violence, Platonic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Stabbing, Stop reading them now for no spoilers, Tags Contain Spoilers, That's only half true
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 09:43:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16037906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_dang_idea/pseuds/no_dang_idea
Summary: Demon Virgil inherited the throne at a young age, and decides he needs to see more of the world. He meets a young human man on a quest and decides to travel with him...





	To Hell And Back

_Being the demon king isn’t fun, okay? I know I have a pretty bad rep, but I don’t really know why. I haven’t done anything wrong, have I? Alright, maybe I have a sense of doom about me that frightens even my subjects at times, but maybe I don’t like it either. Maybe all I’ve ever been is the demon king, and I don’t know how to do anything else. Maybe…_

_Maybe I should try doing something else._

I closed my journal. Yes, I had inherited the role of demon king at the age of twelve, and had done little else in the seven years since. It was time to see something different.

“Enriel!” I called, tucking the book under a cushion.

Enriel, my right-hand man and advisor, ran into the room. “Yes, your majesty?”

“What would it entail for me to take a small… vacation?” I asked.

“A vacation?” Enriel looked shocked. “M-mister Virgil, there would have to be much preparation for such a thing. Someone to act as standing monarch in your place, a way to contact you if something goes truly awry, a knowledge of when and how long you would be away, not to mention—”

“Yes, sure, all that,” I cut him off. “How quickly could it happen? Say, by tomorrow?”

He stammered, “Tomorrow? That would be nearly impossible!”

I loomed over him in my throne. “But it could be done?”

“Ah, well… yes.” Enriel clapped his hands. “Yes. Tomorrow, you may leave for a vacation.”

∙◦∙◦∙

And so, laden down with a bag of items Enriel insisted I pack—he acts like I’m a child sometimes, instead of the ruler of demons—I left to try something new. For a good two or three weeks I walked, away from my kingdom and what I had known before, and I saw things I had never seen. Gentle, peaceful-looking animals; calm forests and clear rivers… it was nothing like home. In my life, all the creatures I’d met were ferocious, and rivers of fire were more common than those of water. It was quite lovely.

Honestly, though, the most exciting thing was when I came to a village of people—actual, real-life humans! How exciting! I’d never seen one before, only heard the occasional scream from the catacombs of the dungeon. Was it true that they couldn’t even shift their form? Did they have horns? I realized that if they didn’t, it might cause a bit of a scene for me to stroll in there, horns and all… better to wait and see a human first.

I situated myself behind a bush and waited. After a time, I got my very first glimpse of a human as he walked towards me, carrying a bundle similar to mine on his back. He had no horns and light, pinkish-brown skin. _Huh_ , I thought, looking down at the dark, desaturated purple colour of my arms. _Maybe I should change that, too._

I closed my eyes and concentrated. When I opened them, I pulled a small mirror out of my pack. There were no longer horns on my head, just straight black hair. My cheeks were lighter and pinker. Perfect. I put my mirror away and stepped out from my hiding place. “Hello there!” I called.

The human turned to look at me. “Oh, hello,” he said. “Maybe you could help me. I’m trying to get somewhere, but I’m not quite sure of the way.”

“Well, I’m not sure I’ll be of help, but I could try.”

“I want to go to the Palace of Demons,” he said confidently.

“The Palace of Demons?” I repeated, taken aback. “Humans—ah, people don’t normally try to go there, do they?”

She shrugged. “Maybe not, but I’m on a quest. So, do you know the way?”

I thought it over for a brief moment. Should I take this hapless human to the palace? What harm could he really do there? There wasn’t a glaring reason _not_ to show him the way. Aloud, I said, “I have been there before, once or twice. I could show you the way.”

“Oh, thank you!” The human boy smiled. “Thank you so much, mister. Oh, my name is Roman, by the way,” he added, holding out his hand. “Roman Ashthorne.”

I smiled back and shook his hand. “I’m Virgil,” I answered, before realizing I’d given his my real name. Well, too late now.

“That’s a cool name,” Roman said. He hiked his bag higher on his back. “So, Virgil, which way do we go?”

I pointed, and we started walking. After a brief moment of silence, Roman started telling me about himself. He was a bubbly, very open person. I learned that, apparently, he had four older brothers and two older sisters, which seemed like far too many children to me, and his father was a butcher. He had lived in the same village for all eighteen years of his life, and was _so_ excited to be going on an adventure! He thought aloud that we were probably going to become good friends on this journey. He’d interrupt himself to point out cute animals or the shapes of clouds. He hardly stopped talking until the sun had set and we’d stopped for the night.

“Wow, I’ve talked so much today, and you’ve hardly said a word about yourself,” Roman remarked, sitting down and rummaging in his bag. “That was sort of rude of me. What about you? Tell me about yourself, Virgil.”

I sat down next to his and, without thinking it through too much, I did. “There’s not that much to tell. Uh, I’m nineteen. I don’t have the same kind of family as you; it’s pretty much just me. I don’t know where my mother is, and my father died seven years ago. That’s when I took over… his job. I don’t have any brothers or sisters, either.”

“Who can you talk to, then? About how you feel and stuff,” Roman asked.

I paused. “Well, there is Enriel, who I… um, work with, but I guess I don’t really talk to him about personal things that much.”

“That sounds terribly lonely.”

“I mean, usually I’ll just write things down instead, but…” I trailed off, looking up at the stars. “Yeah, I guess it can get pretty lonely sometimes. But what can you do, y’know?”

∙◦∙◦∙

As our journey continued, I discovered there are some, shall we say, _cultural differences_ between humans and demons. For example, we came across a man who claimed to own the bridge we wanted to cross, and demanded that we answer a riddle before he would grant us passage. I thought I was being helpful when I offered to solve the problem by killing him, but Roman was aghast and insisted we couldn’t. Turns out that would be murder, which is “immoral.”

“It wouldn’t take long at all. I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“It’s wrong,” Roman pressed, refusing to budge from his viewpoint. He was, as I had and would learn, very stubborn when it came to things that he firmly believed. “There are people he cares about, people who care about him. How many would you actually hurt, just by killing him?” Which, although I hadn’t thought about before, made sense. We sat together in front of the bridge and worked out the answer to his odd question.

Also, apparently, my manners were horrid. I learned this when we stayed in a town not too far out of our way. When an innkeeper told us he couldn’t give us a room, I tried looming over him menacingly, which has always worked for me, but Roman rushed me out the door, thanking the man over his shoulder as we left.

“What was that?” he asked me.

“He wasn’t giving us a room.”

“You can’t just glare at people whenever they don’t give you something, Virgil,” Roman told me. “There wasn’t any space at the inn; that’s not his fault. Besides, he was just doing his job; you shouldn’t get mad at him for that.”

I thought back. How many of the people I’d punished as king had just been doing their jobs?

I confided in Roman that I hadn’t ever been taught to think of other people like that when making decisions. He smiled softly. “That’s okay. I know there’s good in you anyway.”

∙◦∙◦∙

“We’re getting close to the Palace of Demons. "You know, despite everything you’ve told me about yourself, I don’t think you ever said _why_ you want to go there,” I pointed out to Roman as we walked through the thick, dark forest that surrounded my home.

He replied very casually, “I’m on a quest to slay the demon king.”

I stopped dead. “What?”

“I told you I’m on a quest, right? That’s what it is—to kill the demon king. Can we not talk about this?” Roman started walking again, and I walked quickly to catch up with him.

“To _kill_ him? But I thought you said it was immoral to kill. Remember the bridge?” I pointed out. “I was going to kill that man, and you told me not to.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it, and that was different.”

“How was it different?” I pressed.

Roman’s eyes grew dark. “Demons are evil.”

“…What?”

“They are!” he yelled. “It’s in their nature to be evil. Demons killed my mother! She was washing clothes in the river. I was going to help her, but instead I saw her getting attacked by those… those _things!_ They attacked her, they took her away. I was only nine, I couldn’t do anything to stop it, but I can do this. I can avenge her. I’ll get right up close to that monster and I’ll get him with this.” Roman pulled out a glistening, opalescent knife.

I gasped. “Where did you get that?”

He stowed it away again. “A travelling merchant gave it to me, said it would kill a demon. Said she’d used it, and knew it worked.”

“Roman, I’m not sure that you should do this, why would you kill anyone to—”

He whirled around. “You too?” He was louder and angrier than I’d seen him our entire trip. “You said you would take me on my quest, but once you find out I’m trying to end a reign of terror and avenge my mother, you back down? At least at home I was just told, ‘oh, you shouldn’t go, Roman, it’s dangerous, nobody knows the way,’ it wasn’t my _friend_ telling me not to kill _the king of the fucking demons!_ ”

“Friend?” I repeated. “Am… am I your friend?”

“I thought you were, but now I’m not so sure.” He turned away from me.

“Roman, wait—” I reached for his arm.

“No!” he cried as he twisted away from me. “No, Virgil. You said we’re close, just tell me which way it is to the castle and leave me alone. If you don’t believe in me, or don’t think I should kill a freaking demon or whatever, I’ll finish my journey alone.”

 _He wants to kill you, you should kill him first!_ a voice screamed in my head, but I was reluctant. Roman was my friend now, and I cared about him very much, despite the short time I’d known him. I didn’t want to hurt him. And with that, a problem arose. Do I point him in the right direction and lead him to my home? Do I show him the wrong way, and let the less-than-pleasant wildlife get him? Or do I kill him outright? Because that’s what I’d be doing by directing Roman towards the angry, violent, wild creatures that live around here—I would be killing him.

So I made my decision.

I pointed down the path. “Keep going along here,” I said quietly. “When in splits into three, take the left path. You should make it there tomorrow afternoon.”

Roman nodded curtly, before turning away from me and continuing down the path. I watched until he turned a corner and couldn’t be seen through the thick trees of the forest. When I knew he couldn’t see me, either, I shifted back to myself, for the first time in three weeks. Then I started running.

The route I’d told him did go to the palace, but I could get there a different way. Besides, after travelling with Roman, I’d learned that I could run faster than him and for much longer than he could. I ran through the night, only stopping to sleep for an hour.

I made it home just after dawn, dark-faced and panting, hands on my knees. Enriel immediately ran up to me.

“Mister Virgil, you’ve returned! Is something wrong? You look like you’ve been chased.”

I straightened up and looked at him. “Enriel, perfect. I’d like to ask you about the dungeons, and the humans in them. And could you please ask the guards to come up? I need to speak with them, as well.”

∙◦∙◦∙

I was doing perfectly fine on my own. Sure, Virgil had told me the way, but I actually got to the Palace of Demons without him, and I snuck past the guards easily. Not to mention I was making my way through the palace, undetected, without much trouble at all. “See, Virgil?” I whispered to myself. “Being alone isn’t that hard.”

I could almost hear dramatic, tension-building music as I walked down an empty, torch-lit hallway with double doors at the end. Running over what I planned to say in my head, I reached into my pocket, confirming that my knife was still there. Soon, my mother would be avenged.

I made it to the end of the hall, and gently pushed the large doors. They opened.

Before me was a vast room, lined with benches and with a long carpet going down the center like a pathway. It reached all the way to a large, ominous throne, drenched in darkness. I could just see a figure with horns sitting there. To be honest, it was a tad more intimidating than I’d expected.

“Why don’t you put down your pack and stay awhile, dear?”

My bag gracelessly clunked to the ground. The person before me, who could only be the Demon King, sounded almost like… no, of course he isn’t. _Stop thinking about Virgil,_ I reprimanded myself. _He abandoned you._ I cleared my throat and began to speak.

“H-heed my word, dark one, for if I succeed, it will be the last that you hear. I am—”

“I know why you’re here, Roman Ashthorne,” he interrupted me. “You want retribution for your mother, and I understand. But honestly, neither her death nor capture was ordered by the throne. I wasn’t even the reigning monarch at the time—it was my father. I didn’t inherit the throne until he died, two years later. I know none of that makes what happened right, but neither will your plan. Killing me won’t bring your mother back.”

I gasped. “You—you’re reading my mind, aren’t you? There’s no other way you could know all that.”

The demon shook his head, slowly rising from his throne. “No. If I could read your mind, you probably wouldn’t be here right now, and that would be a terrible shame. The world needs more people like you, Roman, like the real you. Not you right now, driven by anger and grief.”

I reached into my pocket and gripped my knife, trying to stop my hand from shaking. “You’re lying. There’s no other way you could know all that about me; the only people I told I’ve known my whole life.”

He stepped into the light, revealing a face with high cheekbones, dark hair, black horns, and dark grey-purple skin. “That’s not true. There is one other person you told your story to. A companion who traveled with you on your quest.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. He looked almost like… “Virgil?” I whispered.

He started to… change… right in front of my eyes. The horns shrank away to nothing, and the hue of his skin shifted, less grey and more pink. Soon, the person who stood before me was identical to the one I had spent the past three weeks with. He smiled sadly. “Hi, Roman.”

∙◦∙◦∙

“You’re a demon!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was,” I said. “...Well, actually, since you want to kill me, I’m kind of glad I didn’t.” He tensed, hand still in his pocket. “I just want you to know that I’m not going to hurt you. I know, you’re here to kill me in an act of vigilante justice, but I’m saying right now: I will not fight you.”

Roman took a shaky step back. “Why?” he asked. “Why won’t you fight me? Why did you show me here, even when you knew why I was coming?”

“Because… because I don’t want to hurt you,” I replied. “You were right, that first night we talked—I was lonely, I just didn’t realize. Now, though, I’ve spent so much time with you, and I’m not lonely. I like the thought of being your friend. I understand any trust you had in me has probably gone completely out the window, but… could we try again?”

Roman looked at me, tears forming in his eyes, and held out his arms. I rushed across the room and enveloped him in a hug. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank—”

Then he made a quick movement, and my back was on fire.

I sank to the ground as Roman pulled his knife out of me. It burned, whatever that blade was made of burned me. I swear I could hear the flesh on my back sizzling. I screamed, but it only came out as a whimper.

“I helped my dad in the butcher shop sometimes,” Roman said, looking down at me, “and he told me a sure-fire way to kill something is to cut its spinal cord. I know, despite your little speech, that you’re still a monster, just like the rest of them. Goodbye, Virgil, king of demons.”

I gasped for breath, but it seemed like I couldn’t get any air. I lay there on the ground for my final moments, and caught my very last glimpse of a human as Roman walked away from me.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ..Why am I so horrible to my children  
>  I'm sorry


End file.
